


"Ramble On"

by queer_consultant



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angelic Grace, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean, Branding, Castiel Learns Quickly, Coming Untouched, Dean Winchester Teaches Castiel About Sex, Dean's Confession, Dirty Talk, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Funny Dean Winchester, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Naked Cuddling, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Profound Bond, Riding, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sleepy Cuddles, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Dean, actually there is plot, castiel still has wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 12:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15364638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queer_consultant/pseuds/queer_consultant
Summary: When Sam goes out for the night and leaves Dean alone in a Missouri motel, Dean plans to rock out to Led Zeppelin and sleep, but when he gets a call from their lately-absent angel friend and a visit to follow, things unravel quickly. From soul-branding explanations to a drunken confession and exploring new territories in their relationship to talking about porn and explaining all the nitty-gritty, sexy stuff, both Dean and Castiel will find that their connection is - as Castiel puts it - truly a more profound bond.





	"Ramble On"

**Author's Note:**

> This is set before the Fall of the Angels, so Castiel has his wings, and is still a virgin.

It felt like it was only Castiel and Dean, just the two of them in this world, and in that moment, it was all they needed. It didn’t matter that it was four o’clock in the morning. It didn’t matter that there was sweat shining on Dean’s skin, or that he was panting incoherent words beneath his angel in the dingy motel room with hideous orange-and-lime-green walls and a stupid plastic cat clock, hours before the sun had even started to rise. 

All that mattered was that Sam was out for the night - and morning, it seemed - doing whatever it was he had said he had to do, which had left Dean alone to mess around a little in the motel room, and that was where it all began.

He started out alone - Sam had gone off on his own, taken Baby out to go do research at the library - but just when Dean had gotten settled in with Led Zeppelin filling his ears and Magic Fingers running pleasantly under him, his phone rang. He grunted, stopping his music, and saw “Cass” glowing on the screen. He’d have to fix that spelling sometime - even a complete dumb-ass would know there was only one s in Castiel, so it would be “Cas” not “Cass”.

Anyone else, and he would’ve let them leave a message, but it was Cas. As in, Castiel, the angel that kept dropping in and leaving, barely visiting for more than five or ten minutes at a time. Accepting the call, he held back the annoyance he knew would taint his voice. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean,” said the gravelly voice on the other end of the line, followed only by soft breathing and wordless silence.

“Cas, did you need something?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t have to eat, or drink, or even need to breathe, really, so I suppose not.”

Dean shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I know, Cas. I was asking why you were calling. It’s, what, twenty-’til-midnight?” He glanced at the clock. “Yeah, it is.”

Still, silence. Then, “Dean, where are you?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose and opening them slowly. He shifted on the bed, disappointed at the realization that he had run out of quarters and was, unfortunately, done using the Magic Fingers until Sam got back - hopefully with some twenty-five-cent pieces to spare. “Uh, Liberty Motel, room eight. It’s in Missouri.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah. Sammy’s out.” He thought for a moment. “Cas, you don’t have to - ”

The line went dead before he could say anything else.

“Wow. Dude calls outta nowhere and hangs up on me,” Dean said to no one in particular, just into the vast emptiness of the air in the room. “Whatever.”

There went his plans for listening to music. And, of course, any chance of sleep.

He knew if he went on with his night and did anything, he would turn around, and there would stand Castiel, taking him by surprise. So instead, Dean reclined on his bed, lying in wait for his fine-feathered friend to appear.

Three minutes passed. Then four, and five, and six. He sat up, looking around the room, and found no one else but himself; he felt that he was in good enough company, solitary and fine with it. He shook his head, feeling like he should have known that, once again, the angel would be a total no-show.

He put on his headphones, queuing up more music to listen to, and lie contented with his eyes closed as AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” began to play. His head bobbed in a series of nods with the beat, mouthing every memorized word.

Dean, fully invested in the music filling his ears, turned up the volume and didn’t notice the shifting of the mattress underneath him, just moments later. Similarly, he was unaware of the familiar trench-coat-swishing and wing-flappng noises upon the appearance of his angel friend; he didn’t hear him saying his name countless times, following the usual “Hello, Dean,” or see Castiel gingerly slinging one knee over his body with his legs spread to kneel above him when he found that standing and speaking was pointless.

With a hand hovering over both sides of Dean’s face, Castiel pulled off the hunter’s headphones, and was met with an incoherent shout and a hit aimed to his face, though he dodged it and continued to perch there, unfazed. Now that he knew the man beneath him could hear, the angel repeated, “Hello, Dean.”

“Jesus, Cas! Don’t just do that!” Dean yelped. “I could’ve hit you.” He ignored the twitch of his cock and the hastening of his heartbeat as he realized Castiel’s position upon him, opting for total repression and denial of the thoughts that crossed his mind.

Castiel tilted his head to the side, still straddling Dean’s upper thighs.

“I could have taken the hit, Dean. But I called your name several times. You just sat there moving your lips, ignoring me. I had to get your attention.”

“Well, maybe not, uh… sit on my lap like that? You could’ve hit me or something if you needed me.” He swallowed.

Castiel looked down at him, still holding the headphones and staying in place.

“I wouldn’t hit you, Dean. Not unless you provoked me. Or, asked, I suppose,” Castiel added, his eyes crinkling up in a squint.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked under his breath, not intending for it to be heard.

“It means if you asked, I could hit you, Dean,” the angel stated matter-of-factly.

Stupid angels, with their stupid super-mojo-hearing and seriousness and pretty eyes, Dean thought, looking up at Cas.

“You can, uh, get off now, Cas,” he said, swallowing thickly once more. He wasn’t going to keep his cool much longer with that kind of pressure on his lap.

With a perfectly impassive face, Castiel climbed off of Dean, choosing to settle next to him on the bed - not that it was really large enough to be intended for such a thing, but it worked out all the same. Next to the hunter, the angel suddenly felt just a little over-dressed. There he sat, in his trench-coat, blazer, tie, and all the necessary layers beneath, while Dean was - to put it simply - oddly under-dressed. He was only in a well-fitting black T-shirt and jeans, seeming to have left his flannel and jacket sitting on one of the dining chairs in the motel room. For a moment, Cas considered taking off a couple layers to make it less odd, but his thinking was interrupted by Dean.

“Yo, Cas! Earth to Castiel.” Dean waved a hand in front of Cas’s face, tugging the headphones from his hand and setting them on the nightstand beside his bed.

The angel raised an eyebrow, as if to say, “What?” to Dean.

“Is there a reason you came here, or did you just wanna see my pretty face?” Dean quipped, making a show of puckering his lips and batting his eyelashes.

Castiel glanced down at Dean’s lips, then back up at Dean, and suddenly Dean was all-too-well-aware that Cas was leaning in and already very close. He felt his heart jump, skipping a beat, and he pulled back. “Uh, really, why did you come here?” He paused. That hadn’t come out right - it sounded too unfriendly. “I mean, it’s great to see you, buddy, but… you’ve been M. I. A. a lot, so why show up now?”

Castiel shifted, angling his body towards Dean on the bed, lifting his hand to settle on his companion’s shoulder. “Dean, I came to see you,” he said, eyes serious and still squinted, searching Dean’s. “Is that not a good enough reason to come here?”

“No, I just - “

“I don’t need an excuse to see you.”

Dean started, surprised. “Cas, Sam isn’t even here.”

“I didn’t come here for Sam, Dean. Just you.”

Dean made a face, scrunching up his nose in confusion. “Why on - “

“I told you, we have a more profound bond.”

“Meaning… what, exactly?”

“I’ll show you.”

Castiel’s hand slid downward, just grazing from the top of Dean’s shoulder to his upper bicep, right over the hand print he had left.

“May I?” he asked softly, his voice low and rough. 

“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice catching in his throat for a reason he couldn’t make himself think to explain.

Castiel inched up the fabric, bunching it and pushing it to rest on Dean’s shoulder, clasping his hand upon the red print on Dean’s skin. It was warm beneath his grip, and glowed a gentle blue. “When a claim is laid on a living soul, it leaves a mark, a brand,” he explained. “This is mine.”

“Does that… uh, mean that I’m - I’m yours, too?” Dean asked after a short silence, swallowing, his eyes flickering from Castiel’s hand on his arm up to his face, the blue of his eyes drawing him in. As much as his soul was screaming at him to, he couldn’t look away. 

“In a way, you are,” the angel said, looking back into Dean’s eyes, licking his lips without much intent to press the conversation.

Dean, on the other hand, knew he wouldn’t be able to let that go; it would bug him, knowing but not really understanding. 

“Is it, like, an ownership thing? You don’t own me, right? It’s not like cow-branding.”

“I don’t own you, Dean. Sometimes it is recognized as an ownership, but I prefer to see it in a way where we are equals”

Was he saying what Dean thought he meant?

“Equals, like… partners?”

“Precisely.”

“Uh, business partners?” Dean ventured.

“Oh. No, not quite.”

“Partners-in-crime, then.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side, like a confused dog. “I had no intention of doing anything remotely illegal with you, Dean. This bond is one that can overrule other partnerships. No matter what happens, the bond lasts.”

“So, it’s one of those may nothing but death do us part things?”

“Yes.”

Dean suppressed a shudder at the sudden gravity of his revelation. “It’s a literal soul bond,” he said, his voice so quiet that it was hard to believe it was his own. He didn’t sound broken, but the realization brought a wave of feelings and questions that he didn’t want to confront.

“I believe humans - and some cupids - would classify it somewhere near soulmates.”

“But you’re an angel, and - ”

“And I am the very seraph who raised you from perdition, Dean. That sanctions many things, and the choice to create this bond is one of those things. Upon some very rare circumstances, such as those before us, angels are permitted to be with humans, but only in certain situations. It is frowned upon, but if the angel wills it and has done such a deed as pulling a soul from the depths, the superiors turn a blind eye.”

“Then we’re s - uh, those. Does that mean we’re supposed to, y’know…?” Dean made a vague motion with his free hand. He knew what it was like to be with a man, but, damn, an angel?

Was he gonna have to be a chick? God wasn’t into that whole gay thing - not that he was gay, but would he have to be all girly to be with Cas? And, Cas - his best friend, his freaking angel buddy, was he gonna screw him? It wasn’t that Dean would hate that, but he preferred not to let his less-than-hetero experiences bleed into his life. Tangling up peices of himself like that would only cause problems.

Castiel made a face, smiling in the slightest, a blend of both bemusement and amusement. “No, Dean, I don’t know.”

“Do we have to… do couple-y stuff? Are you gonna kiss me and - and, uh, touch me like I’m… a girl?” he asked, his face flushing red as color crept up his neck and at the tips of his ears. He liked it a little rougher than the whole stereotyped effeminate bottom.

“If that’s what you want, I will. I had no plans to emasculate you with physical contact, but if you’d rather I did, I suppose - “

“No, no - I don’t want to be, uh, that - “

“Emasculated, Dean.”

“Yeah.”

Castiel’s hand stayed perfectly still in its place, aside from the occasional stroke of the pad of his thumb to the skin resting beneath it.

“Dean, there is nothing that says you lose your male identity in this. No one can take that from you.”

The hunter sighed heavily, and rolled onto his back again; he didn’t even remember having turned to lie on his side to face Castiel - he must have done it while the whole “mark / brand” thing was being explained to him.

When he moved, Cas’s hand was dragged from its spot on his arm to the middle of his chest, and he ignored the way his breath caught in his throat when the angel’s fingers brushed over his nipple. He knew it was unintentional - or at least chose to assume it was - and almost bit his lip when it happened to keep it down. Instead of doing so, he clenched his teeth and dug his short nails into his palm as a distraction.

Castiel stayed next to him on the small bed, even though Dean’s outstretched body took up most of it. He only shifted accommodate Dean’s other arm, and didn’t bother to remove his hand from its new resting place, instead continuing to speak after a short bit of silence.

“I want you to know that, in all the time we’ve known each other, this bond has existed.”

Dean continued to deny himself awareness of Castiel’s proximity and the intimate heat of his touch, and asked with traces of bitter sarcasm, “So, we’ve been soulmates this whole time, and you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“That’s not the same, Cas! That’s something you tell someone early on. You don’t just claim a soul and then let them live, like, Oh, yeah, I kind-of-sort-of own you, but it’s fine! It is not of import - and yeah, Cas, that’s what you’d say. That it isn’t important that you own me.”

“I don’t own you, Dean.”

Dean sat up abruptly, turning towards the angel - whose hand had fallen to his thigh with the jolting movement - and glaring at him, accusation animating his face. “What the hell does claiming my soul mean to you, Cas? ’Cause to me, it sounds like you own my soul, and if you say that makes us soulmates, why don’t you ever stop me from flirting with bartenders and screwing waitresses?”

Castiel left his hand on Dean’s thigh, sitting up to mirror his position. “Dean, I don’t stop you because being with me is your choice. I have no right to say that you can’t do those things, or make you cease to do so.”

Dean made a face, furrowing his brow and saying, “Cas, you’re a freaking angel. You could do anything you want to me, make me do whatever you want.”

“Not necessarily, but I suppose I could. But despite what you must think, I would never do that. I could never make you do anything, Dean. You know how much I appreciate the beauty of free will.”

Dean couldn’t help but glance at the clock as a reflex, not knowing what to say. How the hell did it get to be 12:58? Almost one in the morning. He should have been asleep, not up talking about soulmates and soul ownership with Cas. Free will, that was the mission, and he needed to sleep to complete any mission.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice snapped him back from his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” Dean grumbled.

“I want you to know this. I won’t push anything upon you, Dean. As long as I live, I will wait.”

Dean wanted to fire a retort, but found nothing to say besides, “That sounds like a cheesy chick-flick line.”

Castiel did not look very amused. Dean cleared his throat.

”Sorry. I just - wait, am I immortal, then? If you’re gonna wait that long, I mean.”

“No. But in eternal life, with the bond, we can share a heaven.”

“But wouldn’t you rather have me while I’m, uh, alive? As your soulmate, I mean.”

“I would, yes. It would be much more pleasant, and very appreciated, but I am extremely old, Dean. I have all the patience in the world, and if that’s what it takes, then so be it.” 

Dean looked down at the hand in his lap, still settled on his leg. “Cas, could I have a minute?”

He needed a beer. And time to think. And maybe another beer after that - yes, he would need some calm and some confidence, the kind that came straight from a cold, dark glass bottle.

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel said.

“Just, uh, go? For now, but, if you want to come back… later, in an hour or so, you can. I just need some time.”

“Of course,” Cas repeated. “I will return.”

With those words, the angel disappeared, leaving behind only the split-second sound of his wings and trench-coat flapping, and Dean, who stayed sitting, just mulling over this new information for a few minutes before getting up.

He unplugged his headphones, surprised that Sam still hadn’t returned - he had a rising suspicion that the text from his brother, which said, Busy tonight; don’t wait up, back tomorrow, meant he was out banging some chick. “Son of a bitch better not be doin’ her in my Baby,” he grumbled under his breath. Leave it to Sam to pick up a girl while doing research. He was out there getting laid, while Dean had plans consisting of getting damn near drunk - or at least far enough from sober to forget the whole soulmate / soul-ownership deal; he’d need something stronger than beer for that - and rocking out to Led Zeppelin II before crashing.

“Screw angels,” he muttered, pulling on his flannel and jacket, out the door and walking towards the liquor store the motel was oh-so-conveniently located near.

+

Around forty-five minutes later, Dean was holding a less-than-half-full bottle of whiskey, and when he wasn’t nodding his head along to the beat of Zepp’s “Heartbreaker,” he was alternating between using the neck of the bottle as a microphone to sing into and taking long swills from the mouth.

When Led Zeppelin II ended and his first bottle was empty, he went over and hit shuffle, accidentally knocking over two of the empty beer bottles he had left on the counter in doing so, before starting in on the second bottle of whiskey. He barely muttered a “Whoops,” and didn’t bother picking them up. “Back in Black” played, followed by “Eye of the Tiger,” and when AC/DC’s “Have a Drink on Me” came on, he sang along loudly, causing his motel neighbors to bang on the wall.

Having turned up the volume all the way anyways, he went over to the wall on the side where the loud noise had come from, and he returned the favor, whacking the wall a few times, shouting, “Hey, sorry-y!” He dragged out the y sound, and followed it up by grumbling, “Sorry you have such a bad taste in music.” He stuck his tongue out at the wall.

“God, it’s too damn hot in here,” he griped, tugging at his flannel, throwing it across the room to fall on the dining table over where he had left his jacket after his liquor run. 

He sat down, then, just on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him. He looked up at the cat-shaped clock on the wall, and noticing that its yellow eyes were staring down at him. “What’re you lookin’ at? Dumb cat. You don’t even know me,” he said, words slurring in the slightest.

It was 2:18 am.

“You could know me - hell, you should, I’ve saved the world with my brother, and that angel - but you’re a cat. I bet - “ he hiccuped “ - bet you don’t care, but I have a friggin’ soulmate. He’s pretty. You probably s - “ he burped this time “ - saw ’im earlier. He told me he’d wait for me. Like I’m some kind o’ girl who needs flowers and waiting and feelings and shit.”

“The Lemon Song” played - yup, back to Zeppelin - and he kept talking to the plastic cat clock. 

“He could squeeze my lemon, you know. I bet you don’t even - hic - have a junk. You’re junkless too. Like that ass-hat angel, what’s his name… I don’t know, can’t r’member, but he’s a bitch. Most angels are. They’re dick-less dicks. Well, most of ‘em.” 

He laughed, talking out the soulmate situation with the cat. Dean made it to 2:37 before realizing the cat wasn’t going to offer any valuable insight on his situation.

“Where the hell is Cas? Ca-a-astie-el!”

A minute passed. Then two. Then three, and - “Oh! Cas-s-stiel! There you are, angel-face. You’re late, you know?”

Castiel had appeared back in the spot on the bed where he had been sitting, and he turned around to face Dean, who clambered up from his spot on the floor. He left the bottle there, and came over, crawling up on the angel’s lap; Castiel froze.

“Hi-i-ya, Cas,” he said, syllables holding, not quite slurring anymore. Dean rested his forehead against Castiel’s and leaned in so their noses were touching. He grabbed the angel’s hands, pulling them up to rest on his waist.

“Kinda missed you, y’know? You were gone so long I had to talk to that - “ he pointed to the wall clock “ - cat. It’s not as bright as you, but then again, you’re so… serious.”

Castiel tilted his head, bemused, and asked, “Dean, what happened while I was gone?”

Dean smiled, and when Cas had tilted his head, he couldn’t help but lean in a little more. His arms were wrapped around the angel’s neck loosely, and he gave him a lazy grin. “I did some thinkin’, and - “ he laughed “ - a whole lot o’ drinkin’.”

Castiel didn’t pull away. Dean kept talking.

“I thought about you,” Dean said, spreading his legs further to slide further up on Cas’s lap. He moved so that he was cheek-to-cheek with the angel, and put his mouth close enough to brush Castiel’s ear as he whispered, “A whole lot.”

“What do you mean? What did you think?” Castiel ventured. 

“Mm, like I said, lots o’ stuff. Some dirty stuff, but you’re an angel, so that’s probably not what you wanna hear. I thought about the soulmates thing, and - “ Dean paused to giggle “ - kiss-y stuff. And things like this.” He pulled himself tightly to the angel, chest-to-chest with their faces close; he threaded a hand into the hair at the back of Castiel’s neck. “Do you like stuff - hic - stuff like this?”

“Dean - “

“I mean, what if I told you, I’m not mad that you took my soul - or, claimed it, or whatever. I love you, y’know?”

“Dean, you aren’t s - “

Dean pulled his head back for a moment, hushing Cas by pressing a finger to his lips and whispering, “Shh. Quiet. Let me finish, ’stiel.”

He ducked his head down to press light kisses to the skin near the angel’s ear and as far down his neck as he could before reaching his clothes.

“I want you bad, you know. Sammy can tell, he bugs me about it sometimes, but I made him swear not to say a word to ya. I looked it up once, and I couldn’t find any lore on angels bein’ in love with humans. There was stuff on human-angel babies. Nephilim. And that means angels knock up humans, so I been thinkin’, you could screw me. I’d like it. I’d let you do me however you want. I mean, you’re still a virgin. Crazy, since you’re, what, eons old?”

“I - “

“Sexy, single, and still a freakin’ virgin. And I get you. How the hell did that happen?”

Castiel felt his face heating.

“Never thought I’d get to have ya,” Dean said with a contented sigh, pulling back to look at Cas, returning to the position he had been in to begin with, his forehead pressed to the angel’s.

“Dean, you can’t - “

Dean leaned away, separating their faces, pushing his lips into a pout and saying, “Sure, I can. I lo-o-ove you.”

With sad eyes, Castiel lifted his hand, two fingers extended.

“If only you could say these things, sober, Dean.”

“Sober-schmober, Cassie-boy,” Dean said, letting go of Castiel’s hair to grab his hand, stopping him. “All you’ve gotta do is kiss me. The booze is just for help. It’s like lube. Just give me a little smooch - ” Dean pointed to his puckered lips “ - right here.”

Using his other hand, Castiel brought up two fingers and touched Dean’s forehead, sobering him in an instant.

“What the - Jesus, Cas! Could’ve warned me,” Dean yelped. He started to scramble off of the angel’s lap, but found that Castiel’s hands were back on his waist. “You can let me - “

“Dean, what do you remember?”

Dean flinched. “Nothing! Something. Most of it. I hoped you, uh, wouldn’t ask.”

“So you remember, then?” Castiel asked.

“Freakin’ vividly. God, I’m sorry, Cas. Guess I’m a little too hands-y with booze in me. Usually when I’m that blasted I don’t have to remember in the morning.”

“But did you mean it?”

Dean considered lying, but remembered that Castiel could read through lies like they were wrapped in a single layer of cellophane. 

“Cas, I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

“Dean, it’s fine. Did you mean it or not?”

Dean squirmed in the angel’s lap, still straddling his thighs, arms hanging limply at his sides.

“Do I have to say?”

“Yes, Dean. I need to know.”

“I swear, if you say it is of import, I will - “

Dean was cut off by the soft press of Castiel’s lips to his. It took everything in him not to kiss back any more than the little bit that he did. He didn’t want to scare the angel, and when he had realized kissing an angel, kissing Cas - he knew about kissing guys, too, and Castiel was male by vessel, for the time being - wasn’t so different from kissing anyone else. It was kissing; it was good.

Hell, yes, he wanted Cas. Hell, no, he couldn’t tell him. Not sober.

Instead, he let his hand come up to tangle in the hair at the back of the angel’s neck, just as it had been when he was intoxicated; this time, his intoxication was from his angel, his soulmate, and not a good ol’ bottle of Jack. He kissed Castiel again, this time with full intent, and he tugged his dark, tousled hair, pulling his head back in the slightest as their lips pressed together again.

“Dean - “

“Cas.”

“Is that an answer, Dean?”

Dean leaned back. “You kidding? Nah, obviously I just kissed you because I hate your guts.”

Castiel winced, nervousness and hurt flashing across his face.

Dean’s free hand came up to settle on Castiel’s cheek, and the other hand let go of his hair, coming up to mirror its partner on the other side of his face. He used this to his advantage, tilting Castiel’s face so that he was looking directly into his eyes. “Whoa, whoa, Cas, you’re gonna have to learn when I’m kidding. Please smile, it looks like I just told you I ran over your childhood dog. Which I didn’t forget I said that, it sound like something you’d take literally.”

Castiel tipped up one corner of his mouth.

“Hey, that’s not a smile. Oh, ’m gonna have to kiss you again, I guess, ’cause you’re not smiling.”

If angels could dream, Castiel would have sworn that was what was happening, because this was damn near unreal.

“Dean, is this your answer?” Castiel said, asking once again.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Dean replied, “Well, duh.”

Castiel studied him carefully. “Are you under a spell?”

“Pssh, no. ’Course not.”

“Then why are you… so happy, and open, and okay with all of this? I don’t understand.”

Dean settled his hands on Castiel’s shoulders.

“You know that bullshit expression about the truth setting you free and lifting a huge weight off your shoulders?”

Castiel didn’t know, but Dean went on.

“It’s not all bull. I mean, now that I told you everything - or enough - with the help of that good-old-fashioned liquid confidence, you know it all, so I don’t have to stuff it up my ass. It’s pretty nice.”

Castiel nodded. He was glad Dean was happy, or better, at least.

“So, uh, soulmate, what do you want to do now?” Dean asked with a small smile, thumping Cas on the chest gently with his fist on the word soulmate.

“That’s all up to you, Dean,” Castiel said softly. He had said he would not push Dean, and he intended to uphold that promise.

“Oof. Well, I don’t really know what to do.”

Castiel smiled, his sight staying on Dean. He tilted his head to the side in the slightest, and he asked, “What do you usually do?”

Dean snorted. “With girls?” Yeah, he wasn’t going to bring up guys. Not yet. “Usually just listen to ‘em talk, ask enough questions to get ‘em interested, then go to their place and hit it - ride until we crash.”

Castiel nodded in acknowledgement. “We’ve already spoken. We’ve discussed your questions and mine, and it seems neither of us have displayed a sign of disinterest, so next on the list is the hitting, riding, and crashing. I have no place of my own - heaven isn’t even mine; it’s barely a home for me anymore. I suppose your place - fro the time being - is here, or in your Impala, but Sam is out in that - “

“Cas, are you seriously asking me about hitting it?”

“Isn’t that what you do?”

Dean chuckled, leaning back a bit. Castiel reflexively moved to catch Dean, as if he would go so far back that he would fall off. His hands caught at Dean’s waist to hold him up.

“Whoa there, cowboy. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I just wanted to ask if you know what you’re proposing. I mean, you haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and you’re asking to - “

“We eat together often, Dean.”

“No, Cas, you watch me eat. And Sam’s there.”

“Not always.”

“Yeah, but, really, you want to do that?”

“We hit demons and monsters all the time, Dean. We ride in the Impala. We crash, sometimes. Not intentionally, but it does happen.”

“Cas, that’s not what I meant.”

Confusion cast across the angel’s face, flickering in his blue eyes. “What did you mean, then, Dean? I don’t understand why - “

“When I said hit and ride, I meant have sex. When I say crash, I mean fall asleep, usually pretty quick - you know, since you’re all contented and tired from the sex.” 

“Oh. They’re euphemisms. Do you, ah, do that a lot?”

“Yeah, I do. Or, well, I did. Not a lot of action recently.”

“Then what do you do?”

Dean laughed, his eyes closed and face down. “Cas, you really ought to know this stuff.”

“But I don’t, Dean. I was barely on earth before you. Now it’s an every-day occasion. Forgive me for not being caught up on all of the colloquial terms and alternative pastimes.”

Dean had the sudden urge to kiss all of that proper, formal speech out of Castiel’s mouth and replace it with incoherent, carnal noises. Instead, he decided to be patient, wait, and explain things when Castiel asked.

“What do you do, Dean?” Castiel repeated. 

“Surf the Internet for porn, Cas. Whole lot of it. If you ain’t gonna watch it, don’t touch my laptop, ever. Some seriously good porn on there - and don’t get me started on hentai.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Is that an inside joke between you and Sam? He told me once about never walking in on you when you’re busy with your “hot cartoon porn” because you’ll be in a state I won’t be ready for. He made a joke about needing to bleach his eyes after a run-in of that sort.”

Dean snorted. “That bitch. Outing me to you, how rude.”

“Does he know you should never use cleaning agents like that? His eyes would get irritated, at the very least, if they were not chemically burned. That could be very severe,” Castiel said, his expression serious.

Dean rolled his eyes playfully. “Cas, Sammy knows that. It’s a joke. ‘Gonna have to go bleach my eyes now’ is something people say when they’ve seen something they had never wanted to see. No need to worry. Lighten up, buddy.”

Cas’s mouth quirked up at the corner in a half-smile.

“So, back to porn.”

“You like it?”

Dean hesitated for a minute, then said, “Yeah, Cas. A lot o’ people do.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause it’s sex, Cas.”

“So you like intercourse, then. Which is why you enjoy - “

“Porn. Yeah. But they’re two different things, really.”

“But both are capable of inducing pleasure.”

Dean hummed in agreement. He shifted forward on Castiel’s lap, wondering if his ass would be getting numb any time soon.

“So, instead of “hitting, riding and crashing,” you find pleasure in… porn.”

Dean wanted to laugh, because an angel saying ‘porn’ was like hearing a demon praying. But instead, he responded with, “Sadly, yeah. I mean, it’s been a dry run lately. I’m good, though.”

“You’re good,” Castiel repeated.

Dean nodded, not knowing quite what to say.

“So, you’re satisfied?” the angel asked tentatively.

“I guess.”

“You guess. Dean, it’s a yes-or-no question.”

“What do I say? I’m okay with it, but I like to get laid.”

Castiel worked the inside of his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, suddenly aware that Dean’s eyes had wandered down to his mouth.

“I like it,” Dean repeated. “A lot.”

Castiel wanted to try something. He knew he didn’t feel things the same way as humans did, but he could attempt to understand. So, he asked Dean, “Could you describe it to me?”

“I could, but do you really want that?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel said in a breath.

Dean smiled devilishly. “You’re askin’ for it now, angel.”

Castiel only nodded, and his tongue darted out to swipe over his lips as he waited for Dean to begin.

Dean cleared his throat, and began with, “It’s sex. It’s great.”

His hands moved to rest on Castiel’s hips, and he leaned forward just a bit.

“It’s pushing and pulling, grinding and writhing, and it’s hot. Sweaty and sexy. Whole lot o’ moaning, which is, well, also pretty hot. I mean, with a girl, it’s like - like you can rock her whole world as long as you do it right. You’ve gotta touch her just right, brush your hands up her thighs, her sides - some girls like it rough, but some like it slow and gentle. Kiss her everywhere. Say all that stuff - you know, the whole deal about how beautiful she is, or amazing, or whatever. You’ll know what to say. It kind of depends on what kind of person she is, so I can’t really write you up a script. It’s complex with girls.”

“What about men?” Castiel asked tentatively.

Dean sat back for a second, giving him a look.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you - “

Dean gave Castiel a reassuring smile.

“Cas, it’s okay - don’t worry. I know a thing or two about that too. But don’t you dare tell Sam. I’ll have to move to friggin’ Timbuktu or, like, some weird little town in the Midwest if you tell ‘im.”

“Then I won’t tell him,” Castiel promised.

“Okay, good. Now, with guys, it’s easier. You don’t have to tell a guy how beautiful he is - maybe ’cause your mouth is full of cock, but that’s not always how it goes. Guys are just, I don’t know, more… tactile, maybe. It’s the touching, with guys. ’Specially their dick.”

Castiel licked his lips again, nodding.

“You can talk to ‘em, yeah, but again, you’ve gotta know what they need to hear. If you’re takin’ it, you’re probably not gonna do a whole lot of talkin’. I mean, you might be - uh, actually, Cas, do I have to keep going?”

“I would appreciate it a lot if you did continue, Dean.”

Dean looked at Castiel, pursing his lips for a moment and shifting on his lap again.

“Put it that way, Cas, and I’ll have to teach you true appreciation.”

Castiel’s eyebrows drew up in confusion, and Dean smiled.

“More on that later, Cas. I’ll keep going, I guess. It’s just, when you’re the one taking it, you’re usually pretty busy - or at least your mouth is, one way or another - so you might not say a lot. Usually it’s just praise-type stuff.”

Cas nodded, but stopped halfway. “Praise?”

“Not that whole, “Oh, God, we praise you for this bountiful harvest” shit, Cas. It’s a different kind o’ praise.”

“I don’t understand.”

Dean repressed the urge to let out an exasperated sigh. Patience - he needed patience. Cas didn’t understand all the juicy, sexy stuff, so he would have to lay it all out, plain and simple.

“You want an example?”

“Please.”

Dean took a deep breath. He cleared his throat. He glanced around the room. He was so stalling. But with good reason, he told himself. Nah, he wasn’t about to wimp out. Man up, Dean.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah, Cas. Got it. Give me a sec.”

He gave himself a little bit more of a pep talk. Come on, man. It’s Cas. He’s not gonna laugh. It’ll be fine. He took another drawn-out breath. What do I do? Moan, or groan, or whatever? Or am I doing basic dirty talk, or - gah! Just do it man!

He couldn’t help but ask one more question. “Cas, am I using your name, or should I just - “

“Yes, Dean.”

Hoo. Now I’m using his name? That’s - oh, shit. Whatever. Let’s go. He mentally shook himself out.

He braced his hands on Cas’s shoulders; he didn’t know why, but it felt like what he had to do in that moment. He didn’t look the angel in the eye when he began.

“Oh, god, Cas - “

“Dean, not to be rude, but that’s not very unusual for you to say.”

“Lemme finish, would ya?”

“Sorry.”

Dean looked Castiel in the eye. This is payback for interrupting the first time - that’s all.

He pursed his lips and forced a whimper up from his throat, parting his lips to let it turn into a soft groan.

“Cas, it’s so big - I don’t think I can - “

Far enough, buddy! Quit, like, now, he heard himself shouting somewhere in the back of his mind.

He hastily removed his hands from their resting spots atop Castiel’s shoulders - stupid freaking pretty angel with his nice, smooth shoulders, damn it -

“Dean?” Cas’s voice - a little different than normal, gruffer and a little lower, but, hey, not like Dean noticed and banked more than a few thoughts on it; if he did, it was no one’s business but his own - broke the hunter out of his trance. “Are you -”

“Fine, I’m fine! Was that, uh, good?”

Castiel cleared his throat. “It - ah, yes. Very much so, Dean.”

“Good - good, that’s good.”

Dean rocked back on Castiel’s lap, his arms having fallen limply to his sides once more, and he began wondering if he should get off. He wasn’t uncomfortable - shockingly, since he would have expected to be. Maybe it was some weird angel mojo, or maybe Cas was just built to fit him - no, god, no; he wasn’t going there.

The two sat in silence for a moment. It was Castiel that broke it.

“Your demonstration was interesting, Dean. Very… titillating.”

“Oh, uh - thanks, Cas. Glad ya liked it.”

Castiel nodded. “I do have a question, though.”

Dean smiled. It was, what, three in the morning, but he realized he wasn’t tired. Talking to Cas was pretty nice.

“Go for it.”

Castiel didn’t say anything.

“Shoot, Cas.”

Still, nothing.

“You had a question?”

“A continuation of earlier, I suppose. About the sounds, and the feelings.”

“All right, just get on with it already. I can’t take the suspense,” Dean bantered.

“You said that’s if you are taking it. What if you are not taking it?”

“You’re giving it. Dick, I mean.”

Perplexity spilled over Castiel’s features.

“And do you… do that when you’re giving dick?”

Castiel’s bluntness made Dean snicker - he couldn’t stop it.

“Something I said was humorous?”

“Sorry, sorry, Cas. Forget it - I just - yeah, never mind. When you’re giving’ it, you’ll prob’ly talk more. And make it dirty - dirtier.”

Again, a puzzled look crossed the angel’s face.

“Dirtier. I take it you aren’t referring to uncleanliness.”

“Yeah. See, you’re catchin’ on just fine.”

“What did you mean?”

“Well, you’re probably gonna say stuff to your partner - or fuck-buddy, or, uh, whatever - about how tight they are, and how sexy they look pinned beneath you. If they’re blowing you, you’ll tell ’em how good their mouth feels, how hot they look with their mouth around your c - wait, you do have a dick, right?”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Of course I have a penis, Dean.”

“Cas, only doctors say it like that.” Truthfully, it made Dean think of whales with their big-ass dicks - big-ass, as in longer than Sam was tall. Like, over eight feet? Whales must have serious game, and get so much - 

“You would prefer I say something else?”

“Yeah - no, let’s just not talk about this. Whatever, let’s, uh, carry on with the lesson.”

“Why would you think I didn’t have one? I wouldn’t mutilate my vessel, and Jimmy is - was - male.”

“I just, uh, was thinkin’ ’bout the whole “junk-less” thing. Forget about it, it was just a - “

“I understand your concern. But I can assure you, I am not lacking any genitalia whatsoever, Dean,” Castiel said, voice dropping a little lower.

“Good, good. That’s, uh - “ Dean cleared his throat. “ - That’s great. Good to know.”

You can shut up now, man, he told himself.

“So, you were saying - “

“Yeah. I know.”

“Would you continue to elaborate, please?”

“Uh, sure.”

“You were talking about saying your partner’s mouth felt good,” Castiel reminded him, and, damn him and his sexy voice and messy hair and his curiosity and enchanting eyes and that stupid freaking trench-coat and -

“And similar praises.”

“What did I, uh, stop at, Cas?” Dean asked, having gotten sidetracked by his own question. 

“You were saying that you would tell them their mouth looks hot around you,” Castiel said, “but you hadn’t finished your sentence.”

Dean puffed up his cheeks, blowing out the air in an exaggerated manner, but said, “Guess I’ll keep goin’ there, then.”

Castiel nodded. “If it isn’t too much, could I ask you to give another example, Dean?”

Dean glanced away, wondering why he didn’t feel as awkward about wanting to show Cas what all of it was like as he should. When he looked back, a hopeful, blue-eyed gaze was glued on him, and how could he say no to those eyes? 

“Yeah, Cas. I’ll do it.”

Dean didn’t see Cas running his tongue over his lower lip in anticipation, due to the fact that he had closed his eyes to demonstrate a low groan. With one hand braced on Castiel’s shoulder and the other similarly braced upon the angel’s knee, Dean lifted his hips up in a small, thrusting motion upward; he dropped them down and lifted again, and he could only claim it to have been the heat of the moment that kept him at it.

It was a good thing Castiel wasn’t as reactive to warmth as a human would be, because between all the layers of clothing he was wearing and the blush that would flush over his skin in this situation if he wasn’t an angel, he would surely be burning up; he would be oh-so telltale red with Dean doing such a sexual display.

He may have been an angel, but deep down, there was a growing, glowing spark of humanity from being with humans - the Winchesters, in particular - for so long.

When Dean finished, he tried to play off what he had just done as a joke, though only to himself - he didn’t say anything to Cas, just let go of his shoulder and knee, sitting a little further back on the angel’s lap. He rationalized it in whatever way he had to, just so he didn’t have to face the truth; that was, of course, that - maybe, just maybe - he had enjoyed giving that little exhibition just a bit too much.

He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, working it between his teeth absently for a split second, and once more, the two sat hushed for a moment.

Again, it was Castiel that ended the period of silence.

“Dean, you - ah - you did a good job.”

Dean’s mouth quirked up at one corner, in a boyish half-grin. “Ha. Thanks, Cas. Glad you, uh, liked it.”

The angel nodded.

“May I ask the purpose?”

Oh, shit. There went the whole let’s-ignore-that-I-just-ho’d-out-on-your-lap deal Dean had going.

“I’m sorry, Cas, it just sort of - “

Castiel pressed a finger to Dean’s lips, quieting him as he had been quieted by a less-than-sober Dean earlier.

“I didn’t ask for an apology. I want to know the purpose of all of this in the larger intent of intercourse and reproduction.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s not about reproduction. Usually. But, uh, the moaning and… hip stuff, that’s all to get ’em into it.”

Cas looked puzzled. “Into it?”

“Hot ‘n bothered. Horny. Turned on.”

“And this is important because…?”

“If you wanna have sex, you have to get ‘em interested enough to want it too.”

“To want to have sex.”

“Ye-eah.”

“Okay.”

“And this works for either sex?”

Dean nodded. “Damn straight it does.”

“So then you - “

“Gotta get ‘em turned on, Cas. Hell, screw gender, just go with it,” Dean said, his hands landing to rest on the angel’s thighs without even having the intention of doing so.

Castiel glanced down at Dean’s hands on his lap, having felt a twitch there earlier, and started, surprised at what he found. Dean looked down to see what the fuss was about, and smiled when he saw the tent forming in the angel’s trousers.

“See, Cas, that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

Castiel swallowed, looking up at Dean to find him grinning.

“Why is it - “

“Cas, you’ve got a boner. No big deal.”

“Does it… go away?”

“Yeah, ’s long as you’re not a horny son of a bitch all the time.”

“Can you get rid of it?” Castiel wondered if his grace would make it stop. 

“If you want it to be gone quick, you can get off,” Dean said, feeling just a little odd saying a thing like that to an angel - then again, he had just given more than enough sexual insight to the same angel. But this wasn’t just any angel, this was Cas. He was comfortable with Cas. Cas was his soulmate. It was Cas asking, and damn it, he was going to answer. Again. Even though he really, really ought to have put a stop to it before it had gotten to this point.

“How do I get off of the bed if you’re on top of me?”

Dean laughed. “Cas, that isn’t what I meant.”

“Another euphemism, then. What did you mean?”

“You have to reach orgasm,” Dean said, his face warm. He risked flickering a glance down at Castiel’s lap again, and was it just his imagination, or did Cas get harder?

Castiel reached for Dean’s hand, then, and held it in his own. He looked down at their fingers, curling his up with Dean’s, and said, “I don’t know how to do it.”

Dean chuckled. “Of course you don’t.”

Castiel looked up at him. “It’s funny?”

“A little, yeah. I mean, I figured it out pretty early, and you’ve been around so long, you’d think you would know it all.”

“I know how reproduction works, Dean.”

“Mhm. That’s not what I’m talking about, Cas.” 

“You’re talking about… getting off?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean said, breathing out the words, a strange look suddenly glazing his eyes.

“Dean, are you all right?”

“I’m okay, Cas. ’M just gonna have to spell all o’ this out for you, huh?”

“It seems that way,” Castiel responded. His voice was low - it usually was, but right now, Dean was feeling rather horny, and damned if that voice didn’t make him want Cas to screw him into the mattress. His sexual encounters with members of his sex were few and far between, but he had found his preferences right away, even though the first time he was charged up on some wack stuff and the second he wasn’t totally sober. All the other times, he had been bored, hotter than a bitch in heat, and - shocking as it may be - very sober. 

Dean licked his lips. “Listen up, Cas. You wanna get rid of this,” he said, using his free hand to motion towards the bulge in the angel’s pants, “you’ve got to enjoy yourself.”

Without a trace of sarcasm, Castiel responded genuinely, “I enjoy myself often enough. Especially when we have time to talk.”

“Cas, there are better things than talking.” 

Castiel, noticing Dean’s face was flushed pink, making his freckles stand out, put his unoccupied hand on Dean’s forehead. “Are you sure you are all right?”

Dean smirked. “Hell, yeah. I’m fine, Cas. Gonna be a lot better if you just let this happen.”

Castiel nodded, lowering his hand. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve gotta ask, am I allowed to touch you? Usually, I’d say, “How bad do you want it, baby? D’you want me to give it to you all night long?” but you’re kind of… different.” 

Different as in, this wasn’t - isn’t - a one-night-stand.

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel smiled cheekily - his grin wasn’t something to be taken lightly; it was rare; it was beautiful. ”Give me the full human experience.”

Oh, yeah, Dean was definitely going to lose his mind some day over that smile, but hopefully not in a chick-flick way. ‘Cause, well, that’s just not him. He’s more of a sexy-anime-porn and m/m/f-porno kind o’ guy than a cheesy-romance-movie one.

“One full human experience in orgasms, comin’ up. Hold on to your feathers, Castiel, ‘cause if - nah, when - this works out, your world’s gonna flip. But first, you’re gettin’ out o’ those clothes.” Dean looked to Cas for consent - that stuff’s important, no matter who the hell you’re with; make it sexy, do what you must, but get it - asking, “That okay with you, Cas?”

Castiel nodded, taking Dean’s hands and putting them on his lapels. The hunter’s fingers curled underneath them, and his gaze stayed glued on Cas as he pushed the coat off his shoulders while dismounting from his perch upon his lap; the angel stood and compliantly removed that outer layer once Dean got up.

The two were practically nose-to-nose when Cas was at his full height, and he tossed his trench-coat off to the side of the room, his focus completely on Dean.

Dean’s hands wound under Castiel’s jacket’s dark lapels, looking at the angel through his lashes, muttering, “God, Cas, why do you have to wear so much?”

Castiel smiled, bringing a hand up to catch Dean’s cheek, guiding him in fully to press their lips together in a gentle, chaste kiss. Dean’s eyes fell shut after a moment, and he hurried the second layer off of the angel’s shoulders before the two broke apart.

“That was correct?” Castiel asked softly, referring to his advance.

Dean’s fingers tangled with Cas’s tie next, saying in a hushed voice, “Yeah, Cas. But it gets better.”

He pulled the angel in using the tie as he un-did it, finally having the perfect opportunity to instigate a kiss with him. He tossed the tie off to the side, letting one hand rest on Cas’s jaw while the other wound into the hair at the back of his neck, holding him close. He tilted his face to the left, guiding the angel’s to the right, deepening their kiss. Castiel’s hands hovered uncertainly over Dean’s hips, and when Dean’s hands slid down to grasp his, moving them to settle there and returning his to where they had been. He ran his tongue in the crease between Castiel’s lips when they didn’t open on their own - he understood that the angel wouldn’t know that he ought to open them, but he would learn - and he gently pushed them open until Cas gave in, kissing back as Dean’s tongue led the dance; his hesitance began to wither away, along with any inhibitions either of them had previously possessed.

When they pulled apart this time, Castiel’s lips were darker, and his hair was tousled; he was almost as scarcely clad as Dean in comparison to what the two normally wore - he was only in his dress shirt, pants, and shoes, with his trench-coat, tie, and overcoat recently having departed from his body; Dean was still in the black T-shirt, jeans, and work boots that he usually had beneath his flannel and jacket. The two were still very close - still nose-to-nose, in fact - but with Castiel’s hands resting on his waist now, Dean had his hands traveling the angel’s torso. He played with the buttons on his dress shirt, popping open the first few, but leaving most of them alone to give himself more to look forward to.

He looked into Castiel’s eyes, and was glad to find that there was a hunger settled in them, much like the rapidly growing hunger he felt for the angel, which had swept him up, just as some fallen leaf would be when it got caught in a twister. He felt the warm pad of Cas’s thumb brushing against his belly beneath his shirt, and the sudden urge to take off all of his - and Castiel’s - clothes and just shove the angel onto the bed overtook him. He wouldn’t do it though; Cas was a virgin, and you take your time with those - especially when that virgin happens to be an angel, and your best friend, and your alleged soulmate.

The aforementioned soulmate had leaned his forehead to rest against Dean’s, and a hint of a smile touched his lips at their closeness. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Dean’s lips, which snapped him back from his thoughts. His hands grasped Castiel, and in a hushed voice, he whispered, “Cas -”

“Dean.”

“Do you really want the, uh - “

“The full human experience in orgasms, oh, yes. I want you to give it to me, Dean.“

Where should I begin? A light clicked on in Dean’s mind at the perfect starting place. It might seem like something basic, but Cas was an angel, and he’d need to know what to do anyway, so why not teach him? There was some proverb - probably a Chinese proverb - about teaching that Dean remembered, and he felt fit right with the situation. “Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach him to fish, feed him for a lifetime.” He was going to teach Castiel a very valuable lesson.

“All right, angel, let’s go. But first, uh, lose the clothes.”

Castiel stepped back, raising his hand to snap his fingers to zap away the rest of his clothing, and Dean lunged forward, grabbing his hand to stop him. 

“No angel mojo!”

Cas gave Dean a bewildered look. “Why not? It’s faster?”

Because I want to watch you undress, you wonderful, oblivious dumbass. “Because it’s sex, and you’re learning it the right way.”

“And the removal of clothing is important in such a ritual?”

“Yes. It’s like unwrapping a gift, Cas.”

Another puzzled look crossed the angel’s face.

“Oh, forget it. Just take everything off without mojo. ’Kay?” 

Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If it was anyone but Dean, he just may have, but then again, Dean wasn’t just anyone; not to him. “If you insist,” he conceded, unbuttoning his shirt. 

Dean’s eyes were on him, and he knew it, but didn’t question it. He went at a moderately quick speed, anticipating what was to come, when Dean interrupted. 

“Cas, you - uh - need to go slower.”

He looked at Dean - who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, leaving him as the last of the two of them to be standing - with disbelief. “Slower,” he repeated. “Why?”

Dean swallowed. “Just do it.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. 

“Please?”

Castiel continued unbuttoning, this time much slower. He listened to Dean suck in a breath, and smiled to himself with his head down, looking at his buttons.

Undoing the last one, he glanced up to find Dean still staring intently, watching as the white shirt parted. The hunter was suddenly, immensely grateful for the lack of an undershirt - he wouldn’t have been surprised, but, damn, was he glad there wasn’t anything else under that shirt.

He swallowed again, motioning for Castiel to keep going. “Slow,” he reminded him.

He enjoyed a quick, hot fuck - or a quick, hot anything, really - as much as the next guy, but watching Cas undress slowly like this was too good to pass up. Dean wasn’t above enjoying a tease, as long as he got the goods. And by the looks of it, Cas was seriously packing those goods.

Castiel slid the shirt off easily, and it fell to the floor, revealing smooth, lightly-tanned skin and pink, perky nipples adorning his muscular chest. Son of a bitch. He looked like he was chiseled by God himself, and Dean wanted little more than to shove him up against the wall and - to put it gently - corrupt the angel, starting with his mouth. He wanted to know what it would taste like when he ran his tongue across all that skin, what kind of noises Cas would make; he wanted to know everything.

Watching Castiel pull his belt off torturously slow and seeing it get curled into his hand made the familiar, ever-building heat in Dean’s core rise, and his cock twitched. Those hands looked like they could do things with that belt, and he knew Cas wasn’t there yet - hell, he was a virgin, and what virgin is gonna use their belt on you right? That was a thing to be taught, and Dean had every intention of teaching Cas exactly what he could do with that belt, but he would wait. He licked his lips, and when the angel dropped the belt, it smacked on the floor, just ever-so-nicely.

With his thumb toying with the button on his pants, Castiel watched Dean’s reaction, and the longing he felt emanating from the hunter seemed to double as his skin was exposed and the leather left its loops. The angel popped the button and dragged down his zipper, knowing full well that Dean’s eyes were trailing his hands with their every move.

“Wait, wait, Cas - “

Castiel paused. “Yes, Dean?”

Oh, I’m gonna sound like a chick asking like this. “Can I touch you?”

Castiel came closer to the bed where Dean sat, and his hips were at eye-level, which really screwed with Dean, because he couldn’t just have his way with Castiel. Slow, slow - take it slow with him, he reminded himself. How the hell can I do that with his dick practically in my face?

“Of course you can, Dean,” Castiel said when he got there, taking a knee to be down by Dean. He took the hunter’s hand, pressing it up against his chest. The angel knew what Dean wanted, and he would give it to him. He felt it too, and he knew damn well that angels weren’t supposed to feel. But the bond said otherwise - it made exceptions to every rule, for every creature, through time and space. It was transcendental; it made things possible that defied all sound logic, and that was beautiful.

Dean sucked in his lower lip, running a single finger over the lines, the shaping of Cas’s muscles, and Castiel watched him, fascinated. It felt tingly and warm, Dean’s finger trailing everywhere, but he liked it. Cas brought a hand up to brush the hunter’s jaw, leaning in to kiss him. He liked that even more; Dean’s lips were soft, and his grace certainly didn’t calm down the sensation. Just as he could taste every molecule in a sandwich, he could feel every cell poured into every kiss, every touch. It wasn’t always that way - it was selective; it was the bond, the mark, again, that made the elevated senses pleasant.

While he kissed Dean, he let his eyes fall shut to match Dean’s - which had widened just a little in surprise when he first leaned in - and when he pulled back, Dean smiled. 

“You’re gettin’ good, angel.”

“Thank you… human.”

Dean laughed. “Cas, that’s not - oh, oh, okay. No, see, it’s a sort of - what, a pet name? I think. It’s not - you don’t need to call me human.”

That’s when Dean looked down. “Cas, did you… finish undressing? You used your angel mojo, right? ’Cause there is no way you got undressed normally when you kissed me.”

Castiel looked down at himself. “I suppose I did. I assure you, it was unintentional. My grace does what I will it to.”

Cas wanted to be naked, then. And naked he was. Very well-endowed, too.

Yeah, Dean could ignore that little use of mojo - he’d let it slide this time, but only because Cas was, to put it plainly, pretty fucking hot. Like, what the hell was up with those hipbones, and his abs, and, really, everything else? He was supposed to be angelic and pure, not friggin’ sexy. Where was the whole Angel of the Lord, too-holy-for-your-shit thing? 

Dean’s eyes would have likely stayed glued to the view of Castiel’s dick if he hadn’t made himself tear waya his gaze, flickering it anywhere and everywhere that Cas wasn’t.

“Jesus, Cas, put that thing away,” Dean joked for lack of a better comment.

“Dean, you instructed me to undress. I did as you asked,” Castiel said, standing. He was up in Dean’s face once more, and Dean looked up at him. 

“Just - just sit down, would ya? I can’t think straight with your junk right there, and it’s drivin’ me nuts.”

Castiel stared down at himself again. “Does my body - or my vessel’s, I suppose, but he’s long gone - make you uncomfortable, Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just sit.” 

Cas sat down next to Dean, leaving little space between his naked skin and the denim of Dean’s jeans. The aforementioned hunter looked over at him, checking him out in a less-than-subtle way. 

“Are you going to stare like that the whole time, or are you planning on upholding your end of the situation?”

Dean cleared his throat. “I’m gonna teach you, Cas.”

“About orgasming,” Castiel supplied.

“Ah, yeah. Let’s, uh, get this show on the road, then.”

Shit, what was he supposed to do? Just friggin’ grab Cas’s dick, say, “Yeah, this is how you jack off,” and let him finish? He paused that train of thought for a moment to ask himself, “Do you have any better ideas?”

It seemed he didn’t. Which seriously sucked out loud, but he knew he would have to be blunt.

Cas was waiting, and Dean was psyched up enough after a quick mental-chat with himself, and thus, the endeavor of teaching Castiel the ways of sexual pleasure began.

“All right, Cas, lemme give it to ya straight. I’m not gonna demo - “

Pssh, right. You will. Just not yet.

“ - this for you, but I’ll talk you through it.” Dean looked over at Cas again, and flopped back on the bed, speaking towards the ceiling.

Castiel nodded. He mirrored Dean’s position, stretching out next to him - still close, still nude. He turned to his side, though, facing Dean. 

“Dude, how are you not at all uncomfortable like that?” Dean asked suddenly. 

“Why should I be?”

“Cas, you’re full-frontal. Next you’re gonna be all “Draw me like one of your French girls,” and I’ll be laughin’ my ass off.’“

Castiel gave Dean a puzzled look. 

“Cas, it’s a freaking Titanic reference.”

“I don’t - “

“No, forget that.” Man up, Dean. “You ready to jack off?”

So much for subtlety, dumb-ass.

“If that’s what you intend for me to do, then yes, Dean.”

“Great. Awesome. Just, uh, sit up.” Dean waited for Castiel to do as he said, and followed suit. He ignored the fact that he was quite a bit more than half-hard, because right now, this was about Cas. 

He could have just directed Castiel, but he didn’t; he grabbed his hand, and held it close to his cock. 

“Okay, Cas. Look. You’re hard, right? But not, like, all the way. If you think of something that turns you on - angels do get turned on, right? I mean, you can, I guess - then you’ll get harder. If you want to get rid of that, or if you’re bored, or lonely, or whatever, you can jack off.”

He watched Cas’s cock twitch, and, with his fingers interlaced with the angel’s, he guided their curled hands to grasp his shaft. 

Maybe it was because it was Dean, but Cas felt that. As in, really, really felt it. He pressed his tongue into the roof of his mouth, stopping an odd noise from leaving. 

Castiel experimentally dragged his hand upward, bringing Dean’s with him, and when he brought it back down, he squeezed, and that little sound he had held back escaped. It was like the sound a human made when they were in pain - much like the babysitter when the pizza man had been slapping her rear, as Cas recalled - but he knew this wasn’t pain. It was nothing like the infliction of agony an Angel Blade left on his skin. This was pleasure.

He felt warm at his core, which wasn’t the most usual thing for him, but with Dean, what was normal for the wayward angel? 

He looked up at Dean, appreciating the look that crossed the hunter’s face as he watched Castiel speed up the movement of his hand. Seeing the angel jerk his hips up to thrust into his fist and hearing soft little gasps leave his mouth was - to be put simply - pornographic. Every time his thumb would move to brush up against the head of his cock, Cas’s eyes would just barely widen; if you blinked, you would be likely to miss it, but Dean watched intently. 

“Never touched yourself before, eh, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice low, just above a whisper. He had quite a sizable bulge in his jeans now, and he was this close to giving in and touching himself, or at least palming at it for some relief, but he could wait. He wanted to wait. But, damn, did he want to blow Cas. 

Thoughts crossed Castiel’s mind - memories of Dean, mostly, but other things too - at a mile a a minute, and he barely responded to the hunter’s question, just let out a small noise followed by a “No,” and a shake his head for a fraction of a second. The angel hadn’t even noticed Dean’s hand leaving his to let him make his own pace, but knew that he was sitting back and watching, and again, the tug of his longing was spiking skyward.

Dean wanted to touch Cas again, but once more, he reminded himself to be patient. He waited until he knew the angel was close to his release, and knew by his face - Cas’s eyes were shut tight, but every so often, they would widen, almost terrified at not quite knowing what was coming - and the way he thrust up with less rhythm than before. He was torn between letting Cas come and making him wait - how was he going to blow Cas if he went soft? Dean didn’t want to wait for Cas to -

“Dean!”

Well, there went that idea. 

Dean wanted to be disappointed, but with Cas’s little display as he came - his eyes squeezed shut, hand jerking over his cock, a groan on his lips, the shout of Dean’s name, the flex of his muscles, all of it - he couldn’t bring himself to be irked. 

Castiel’s cock twitched as he came, shooting spurts of white onto his hand and the smooth, lightly-tanned skin of his belly. The feeling surprised him, which wasn’t a common thing for the angel, but it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t pleasant. 

What the angel didn’t know, though, was just how obscene, how erotic he looked as he found release in front of Dean - he looked like a freaking porn-star, which, to the hunter, was insanely unfair. 

When Castiel’s orgasm subsided, he looked to Dean, who hadn’t so much as glanced away through the whole scene. 

“Was that correct, Dean?”

Dean smiled to himself - the corners of this mouth tipped up, and his eyes crinkled at the corners, and Castiel was reminded of the beauty and value of humanity once more. 

“Yeah, Cas. You did a - “ Dean cleared his throat. “ - A great job.”

He wanted to lick that off cum off of Cas, but instead said, “You can, uh, mojo that away, if you want.”

Castiel did, willing himself clean with his grace. He looked down at Dean’s lap while he repositioned, and noticed a similar bulge, one that looked much like his had before his orgasm.

”Dean, you have one too.”

Dean shot Castiel a curious look.

“One?”

“You called it a boner, I think.” 

“Oh, yeah. Uh, don’t worry ’bout it. No big deal.”

It had been a big deal for Cas to get rid of his earlier, and Dean had helped.

Castiel remembered the pizza man and the babysitter, and when the pizza man had needed similar assistance, the babysitter had helped - oh, how had the pizza man asked? He said something along the lines of “Blow me, baby.”

Castiel hadn’t understood that but it seemed that the pizza man had enjoyed it, and he wanted Dean to be happy. He wanted to be the one to assist him. It was the least he could do, really. 

“Dean, I can help you.”

“What? You wanna help me out with this, Cas? I can, uh, just do it myself. You don’t have to.”

Castiel didn’t know how to phrase it well enough, but “I could blow you, infant,” would have to suffice.

Dean stifled a snort. “Wait, wait. Did you - did you just call me - ”

Castiel tilted his head to the side. “I said something humorous?”

“Cas, it’s baby, not infant,” Dean said, this time laughing a bit. 

“Are they not the same? Both terms refer to a very young child, Dean. I don’t understand why it was necessary, but the pizza man - ”

“Cas, trust me, it’s just baby. Or babe. Not infant.”

“You call the Impala your Baby.”

“Yeah. She’s special.” He paused for a moment. “Dude, are we really talking about this? Are we gonna get sidetracked all the way through this?”

“Would you rather I… blow you, baby?” 

“D’you even know what that means?”

“Yes.“

+

Holy shit. Holy shit. Angels don’t have gag reflexes. Repeat, repeat: angels don’t fucking have gag reflexes!

Castiel was on his knees, Dean was just as naked as the aforementioned angel, and he was getting what was quite possibly the best blowjob of his life - ’specially from a freaking virgin, and an Angel of the Lord, no less.

One porno, a little advice, and suddenly Cas can suck dick better than -

“D - oh, god, Cas!” 

Dean’s hands were clutching Castiel’s hair, tightening and tugging when the angel swallowed him down, sucking him off like his life depended on it. 

This bastard and his fast learning and his hot mouth and-

“Jesus, Cas - “

Dean’s hips jerked up, fucking up into Castiel’s mouth. The angel gripped Dean’s hips, holding him down as he pulled up to focus on the head of his cock, licking around it and dipping into the slit with the tip of his tongue. Cas lowered his mouth, still toying with the sensitive area to make Dean writhe beneath him, manipulating his lips to tighten around the shaft every so often.

The angel had Dean proverbially wrapped around his oh-so-powerful finger, and - as much as he hated to admit it - Dean loved that. He always felt like he had to be in control, so it was refreshing to let someone else take over - ’specially when that someone was Cas. That angel was blowing him breathless, taking him right to the edge; Dean groaned loudly, warning Castiel, “Cas, you’ve - ah - gotta stop, I’m not gonna - “

Castiel brought a hand up, pressing his fingers to Dean’s lips to silence him; he kept going.

Dean dragged one hand from the angel’s hair and propped himself up on his elbow, lifting his head more to see Cas, who looked up at him, ignoring the insistent tugging of Dean’s other hand in his hair and the pleading warning for him to pull off. There was a glinting heat in Castiel’s eyes, and Dean could have swore they flashed blue for a split second, but passed it off as nothing, because he had reached the brink of his orgasm. He looked down at his angel, bobbing downward on his cock, and came. Castiel didn’t move away - he took Dean into his mouth fully, nose brushing Dean’s pubic hair, the head of his cock hitting the back of Cas’s throat as white-hot pleasure coursed his body, sending a chill down his spine as he came with another jerk of his hips and a cry of “Cas!”

When Dean was brought down from the rush of his release, he sat up slowly, and found Castiel still kneeling in front of him. They had let go of each other, for the most part, but one of Cas’s hands was still on Dean’s hip. The other one was up at his mouth, collecting the little bit of Dean’s cum that had slid down his lip with his thumb. He had swallowed the rest - which hadn’t tasted half-bad, but it was a little bitter from all of Dean’s coffee; his grace tended to magnify flavors, so if he focused hard, he could have tasted the individual cells, but he didn’t, which was more than he could say about the molecules in PB & J sandwiches - and he dipped the thumb into his mouth, licking the rest off of the pad of it, looking up and making eye contact with Dean.

The angel was totally oblivious to how hot Dean found the whole eye-contact thing, or how that was the exact thing that pushed him over the edge. Dean swallowed, and his cock twitched, despite having been damn near sucked dry by Cas.

“How the hell did you learn to suck dick like that?” Dean asked, breaking the moment of quietness between them. 

Dean had learned from experience, trial-and-error situations, private practice with vegetables, and a whole lot of porn, but Cas was a virgin with one porno under his belt. He was a fucking angel, so why could he suck a cock like that?

“I watched and I learned. I suppose I figured it out on my own.”

“So, uh, my dick’s the only one to have ever been in your mouth?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes. My vessel, Jimmy, had no memories of fellatio, so I feel it is safe to assume that - “

“No, Cas, I mean… you’re not experienced at all, right?”

“Despite being extremely old, no. Not sexually.”

“Good,” Dean mumbled. Sam popped into his mind - which was weird, ’cause he had been thinking about Cas screwing him silly just seconds before, and now Sam was in his mind, interrupting - saying, “Possesive much, Dean?” To which he would respond, “Bitch,” receiving, “Jerk.”

He extended a hand to Cas, offering wordlessly to help him up off his knees, and Castiel took his hand, though he didn’t require assistance in the least. The two stood naked then, a mere foot from the bed, and Cas asked, “Did I do well, Dean?”

Dean pretended to ponder the question. Castiel looked concerned for a moment. The hunter gave him a teasing smile. 

“O’ course you did, Cas.”

“It felt good, then?” Castiel asked, almost excitedly. 

Dean hummed. “Friggin’ great, Cas. Ten outta ten.”

Castiel smiled. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you, Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes playfully. “Is the day long?”

“That can be subjective.”

“Shut up and kiss me, angel.”

Cas did, and with his learning curve, was becoming steadily more dominant, being the one to invade Dean’s mouth this time. He kissed him gently at first, but pressed in so they were chest to chest, and when he parted Dean’s lips with his tongue, he experimentally brushed it around in different places, using his teeth just a little to catch the hunter’s lower lip as Dean had done to him earlier.

Dean let out a soft noise, something oddly close to a whimper, and kissed back with the same fervor. When Cas pulled back, the heat in their shared gaze was enough to melt any beach into a glass-land.

He didn’t tell Castiel that it was a turn-on to taste himself in the angel’s mouth, but he had a feeling that the angel knew he liked it - and no, that was not a chick moan at the end there.

Dean wanted to feel satisfied - he had just come, so he should have been nothing but sated and sleepy, but he wasn’t. He still wanted more from Cas. It wasn’t greed, per se, but a bigger picture; it was a lot of built up tension, and damn it all, he was going to go as far as Castiel would take it with him.

He lowered his lips onto Cas’s again in another searing kiss, and meanwhile turning him enough that the angel’s back was towards the mattress. As he kissed him, he pushed him gently to the edge of the bed, and Cas held on to him, pulling him down on the bed with him. 

When he brought his lips away from Castiel’s, the found himself lying on top of the angel. One of his hands had tangled into the dark waves at the back of Cas’s neck, and the other was on his bicep; Castiel’s hands were similarly placed, with one sitting warm atop the brand on Dean’s arm, and the other one was suspiciously close to the hunter’s ass, tentatively sitting on the small of his back with his smallest finger falling just a little lower. Dean’s legs were apart, with one on each side of the angel’s thigh, which was up, pressing into his softened, drained cock. 

If he hadn’t just gotten off, Dean would have been damn near grinding down against that thigh like a horny teenager, but he had enough restraint to keep from doing that - plus, over-stimulation wasn’t quite what he wanted at the moment. What he did want, though, was a quick recovery so Cas could screw him. He knew Cas was down for it - his dick was brushing Dean’s belly, so he could probably go for a round. Dean shifted his body above the angel, and his cock twitched as his nipple rolled against the smooth skin of Cas’s chest. His cheek was resting against Castiel’s, and thoughts of what he wanted to do with the angel crossed his mind, vivid and erotic. 

Then, a thought of Cas broke the chain of fantasies, snapping Dean back to the time when the angel had read the cupid’s mind back on the case with the fourth Horseman, Famine. Was Castiel hearing - or seeing - all that had been going through Dean’s mind? Not that it would be bad - hell, it’d be easier, and then Cas would just know to fuck him. He had to ask if Cas could, in fact, see those thoughts.

“Uh, Cas, can you read my mind?”

Castiel gave him a funny look. “That’s an invasion of privacy, Dean.” 

“So you can’t just, uh, see what I’m thinking, right?”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Dean.”

“Oh.” Dean worked his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “All right.”

He seemed disappointed, just a little bit, which was odd. Castiel would have thought Dean would want to keep his thoughts hidden away, just for himself.

“Am I supposed to?” Castiel asked, not sure what Dean was asking for. “Is that what you would like, Dean?”

I want you to freaking -

Cas almost did it - he almost listened to what Dean was thinking, but he didn’t.

\- fuck me in the ass, use me like a toy, let me ride you, and kiss me like I’m worth it.

“What is it you want?”

”I dunno, Cas, maybe another boner?” Dean said jokingly.

The angel made a thoughtful face. “I suppose that could be done.”

Rolling his eyes, the hunter said, “Cas, I’m human. It takes time to get back into it.”

“I could use my grace.” 

“You what? Your grace can do that?”

“If I will it to, then it can, yes.”

“That’s allowed?”

“I can heal you, and this is a sort of recovery, so I could.”

“Woah, wait, so Cas, can you… uh, just mojo it back up?” 

“Yes, Dean. I can, if that’s what you would like.”

“And I’m not gonna be, like, hurt or anything, right?”

“No, Dean,” Cas said reassuringly. “I’m only helping you overcome a human limitation. It’s very similar to healing.”

Dean brought a hand to rest on each side of Castiel’s face, and whispered, “Do it,” sealing his lips over the angel’s again. 

Cas let him lead the kiss, and Dean felt his cock hardening rapidly - it was inhuman, and if he wasn’t busy with Castiel’s mouth, he would have laughed. It was so unreal, the way he went from zero to one-hundred like that; just flaccid to freaking rock-hard. His hands slid to Cas’s shoulders, grasping at them as he kept kissing him, dipping between his lips to tangle with his tongue every so often. He experimentally rubbed up against the angel’s thigh to find that, yes, he was restored; it was as if he hadn’t come just a while ago, and he was still friggin’ horny.

Castiel stayed still for the most part, with the exception of his mouth as he kissed Dean back, and his leg, which he shifted to let Dean rut down against better. He was coming to understand the human sexual experience, and found himself wanting more - he knew Dean felt the same, because the longing was still a strong tug through his whole being, making him want to be even closer to the hunter. He gently squeezed his mark upon Dean’s arm, feeling it emanating the profound bond between them, calling to him. It was a direct link to Dean’s soul, which burned beautiful and powerful and bright; it was colorful, in the sense of emotion, of feeling it conveyed, and he loved it. He loved Dean.

And next to that, he knew what Dean wanted - but only to a certain extent, which could become a little problem for him. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was to do, but he could piece together enough. Still, he supposed asking couldn’t hurt.

“Dean, what are you planning on doing?” 

The hunter’s hands tightened their grasp on Cas, and he smiled a little as Castiel’s blunt question. Dean brought his lips close to his ear, and whispered, “Read my mind, angel.”

He wanted Cas to see it, and if he got the A-OK, he was going to have Cas screwing him until the sun rose in the sky. Fuck sleep - he wasn’t tired with the angel around anyway.

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked softly, his voice low and gravelly, but still a little different than usual.

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean shifted, positioned with one leg on either side of Cas’s hips, and he grabbed the angel’s hand, pressing the usual two fingers to his forehead and imagining the fantasy for their first time.

He opened one of his eyes just a bit, keeping the other one squeezed shut to focus on his thoughts, but when Dean saw Castiel’s eyes widen, he grinned; the angel’s cock twitched up against the hunter’s skin as he watched the little scene play out. When Cas pulled back his hand, it settled on Dean’s shoulder, slipping down his arm to run to his hand. “Dean,” he said in what would have been a breathy tone if not for his usual low inflection. “Is this what you truly want?”

Dean gave a simple nod, followed by a brief, gentle utterance of, “Yes.”

+

Dean ended up inching his way down Castiel’s body, littering kisses across his shoulders and chest, running the flat of his tongue over each nipple, grazing his teeth over them to watch the way Cas reacted, lifting his back up in an arch and gasping out a little “Oh,” with his eyelashes fluttering.

He pressed his lips into warm, open kisses all thew way down Castiel’s torso, brushing his thumbs over those hipbones of his, sucking gently over one of them to leave a blossoming mark. Cas’s hand stayed on the mark he had left upon Dean’s skin almost the whole time, and his other hand was threaded into the longer parts of Dean’s short, sandy hair. 

From his place at Castiel’s hip, the hunter moved his mouth downward slowly; he didn’t have the patience to beat around the bush and tease Cas by leaving little kisses everywhere around his hard-on, so he went right for it, taking Cas’s cock into his mouth without hesitation. 

He ran his tongue over the veins in it, trailing up to the head and swallowing him down. Dean didn’t move his hands to touch himself - he wanted to come on Cas’s cock alone, and if the way the angel felt in his mouth was any indication of how the real deal was going to be, he was confident that he could do it. 

Dean bobbed his head back and forth, and when Castiel rocked his hips up to thrust further into his mouth, Dean took it in stride, sucking him off and letting Cas further into his throat. He kept going, wanting to bring the angel close to the edge, and when he could tell Cas was close, he stopped completely. If Castiel wasn’t an angel with patience to rival that of any other, he would have whined at the loss, but he knew that Dean wouldn’t leave him to wait forever. When Dean pulled off of the angel’s cock, his lips were reddened, and his hair was messy with Castiel’s hand still tangled into it, and he whispered, “You almost ready, Cas?”

He got a nod and a husky, lustful, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean breathed out, pausing to psych himself up.“Okay, ah, get into the drawer, there’s a box in there with some condoms and a little bottle - get ‘em for me, would you?” Dean asked, swallowing down the dull ache in his throat. He stayed on his knees between Cas’s legs with his ass still up in the air as it had been while he blew the angel. 

Castiel let go of Dean’s hair, reaching his arm back to grab the box and bottle without question, keeping his other hand almost possessively grasped around the hunter’s bicep where his mark adorned the smooth, tanned skin. Dean grabbed the small bottle of K-Y and took a condom out of the box, uttering a soft “Thanks, Cas,” to the angel and popping the cap off the lube. Castiel nodded, shrugged, and put the box back into the drawer of the bedside table. 

He watched as Dean brought the little foil package up to hold the corner between his teeth, then let it go like an afterthought. It fell onto the bed, and Dean squeezed the plastic bottle onto his fingers, and the liquid that spilled out ran down into his palm, shiny on his skin. 

Dean’s cheek pressed against the inside of Castiel’s thigh as he snaked his lubed-up hand back behind him, using the other one to spread his ass apart. He let the liquid K-Y drip from his cupped palm down onto his waiting, puckered hole, and let the tip of his index finger turn in lazy circles around it, pushing the digit in slowly to let himself adjust. His eyes slipped shut, and a soft sigh left his lips when his first knuckle pressed into his skin. He knew Cas was watching - probably curious about what was goin’ on back there - and that turned him on like hell, which, in turn, made him relax enough to experimentally thrust his finger in and out before adding a second with a small, sharp intake of breath and a gasp that sounded suspiciously like Cas’s name. He was getting back into the feeling, re-familiarizing himself with it - he hadn’t had many opportunities for penetration-inclusive-masturbation, just the usual occurrences of jerking off to porn whenever he had time and felt horny.

Dean messed around, curling his fingers and pulling them almost all the way out, just to thrust back into himself abruptly. He ran his free hand down the back of his thigh, over the curve of his ass, and gave himself a satisfying smack on his right cheek. It made his breath quicken, and if he hadn’t been aware of Cas’s presence - and his patience in waiting, which Dean was more than thankful for - he would have done more than just the one. 

He knew they would have to work up to it, but, damn, Dean wanted Cas to slap his ass right then, and just own him. He wanted rules, too - sexy rules, yeah. I like those, Dean thought as he worked himself further open, pushing in a third finger. His breath was warm against Cas’s hard-on, still slick with Dean’s saliva, and the angel’s cock twitched a little with the heavier sighs.

A groan tumbled from Dean’s lips as he fucked himself with his fingers while thinking of Castiel hovering over him, dominating him like that - laying down rules, tying his hands behind his back, blindfolding him, whispering dirty things to him as he pounded into his ass, and - oh, god, if he didn’t stop he was going to come before he even got Cas inside him. Maybe it was wrong to want an angel doing all of that stuff to him, but Cas was far from being a normal angel, and right now, Dean wanted to ride him like a freaking bull.

With his left hand’s fingers still in his hole, spreading himself wide open in preparation for Cas, Dean grabbed the condom with his right. He tore the foil package open with his teeth, tossing it over the side of the bed to pick up later and bringing the condom itself up to Cas’s dick, rolling it from the head down to his base expertly. His eyes were on Castiel’s the whole time, and the mix of bewilderment and excitement that he expressed in that look of his made Dean want to kiss it off of his face to leave him with confidence and understanding.

Instead, he moved to settle one leg on each side of Castiel, straddling his lap again, and he poured more of the K-Y onto the angel’s cock generously, spreading it with both hands over the condom. With a little left over on his hands, Dean reached up to tweak his nipples with a soft whimper, leaving the shine of the lube on his chest when he let them fall to settle on Castiel’s chest.

The angel was settled back, lying back for the most part, though the pillows beneath him kept him propped up enough to see Dean perfectly, and when Dean moved up again to hold himself up just above his hard cock with his left hand bracing himself, he blew out a low breath in anticipation. Dean’s right hand was reached between his legs, grabbing onto Cas to guide him between his ass-cheeks to press the head of Castiel’s dick against his waiting hole. It went in slowly, but once it was in, Dean let go and began slowly sinking down onto his cock, taking the angel’s left hand and cupping it around the curve of his ass. 

He leaned forward as Cas pushed deeper into him and sealed their lips together, working over the angel’s mouth to distract himself from the familiar twinge of pain from the stretch. Dean sank further down onto Castiel’s cock, body relaxing as he kissed him long and rough, hands braced on his broad chest, and heartbeat fluttering in his chest. 

He broke the seemingly never-ending kiss to breathe out, “Jesus, Cas -” before going back for more, attacking the angel’s lips again. Castiel still wasn’t all the way inside of Dean, and the two kept at it until he was. Every kiss left Dean breathless, and, damn, Cas could kiss. Dean figured it probably had to do with that whole thing about him not needing to eat, or drink - maybe he didn’t have to breathe. Which would explain those long-ass kisses.

Castiel’s grip on Dean’s arm - on the brand - stayed strong and warm and constant. It was possessive, but gentle enough to be loving - love, they’d have to talk about that, and Dean was a little anxious about it, but right now, he was going to focus on Cas. Particularly on the fact that his cock was all the way inside of Dean’s ass, and he felt fucking huge. Dean hadn’t been filled like this in quite a while - it was a welcomed sensation, and it made him horny as hell.

He shifted atop Castiel, pushing down just a little further, and lifted himself up, feeling empty as the angel’s cock began to leave him. When he sank back down again, the full feeling took him over once more, and Cas’s back arched up towards him his eyes widening just a fraction as a low rumble came up from his chest, sounding unmistakably like Dean’s name. 

His grip tightened on Dean’s body, pulling him close again. Castiel kissed Dean over and over, and when he let Dean pull away, he felt the beautiful man smile into his shoulder. Then, as he felt Dean’s hips push back to meet him, Castiel felt the soft press of lips to his skin, and the slow, heated swipe of a tongue against the places where those lips had been. He had developed an affinity for Dean’s kisses, but this was new.

Dean’s head was buried in the crook of Castiel’s neck and shoulder, and while he littered little pecks of his lips on the soft skin, he noticed that the angel smelled different. A good different, he concluded. Cas smelled sweet, like honey and the air after a long rain in a dry place; like freshly baked pastries and pleasant things that Dean couldn’t put a name to.

He wanted to stay like that for a while, just breathing in the scent of him, leaving light kisses on his neck, brushing his lips on the smooth skin beneath Cas’s ear. But then again, he wanted to fuck him - or, rather, be fucked by him. 

+

Dean rode Cas slowly, pulling up and sinking down to let the angel’s cock spread him open again and again, watching the pleasure wash across his face. 

He was strong - no doubt about it, hunting could do that, and so could his usual workout - but, damn, he felt that burn in his thighs from lifting himself up to bring Cas’s cock out of him all the way to the head before lowering himself down again to be filled.

Castiel’s hand was still on the mark, his claim upon Dean’s skin and soul, and his other hand had moved up to rest on Dean’s hip, and every so often, he would pull Dean down for another heated kiss. Little noises fell from his mouth as Dean continued to ride him, and the sounds that spilled from Dean’s lips were nothing short of symphonies to him. His name was never far behind a soft groan or a whimper from the hunter, always “Cas, Cas, Cas,” like a chant or a prayer - a mantra of sorts. He could see that Dean was growing tired, less steady, and his hands almost trembled on his chest. 

Dean hadn’t touched himself since had mounted Castiel, and he was determined not to. He had meant it when he told himself he wanted to come on Castiel’s dick alone, and, damn it, he was going to follow through with it - even if his cock ached to be touched, and his legs were starting to ache. 

He decided to stop pulling off of Cas for a while, opting to take it slow and rock his hips down to grind himself down, arching his back and making an odd little mix of a hiss and a moan as he felt the head of Castiel’s cock hit his prostate just right. He moved back and did it again, getting that perfect push once more, working into a new rhythm. 

Cas gasped softly when Dean changed up his pace and pattern, rocking forward instead of raising himself up, and he squeezed Dean’s hip, pulling him down more. He couldn’t get enough; Dean was amazing; this was amazing, and so very strange. A good strange. 

He wanted to pull Dean close, to whisper, “I love you,” and “I will stay forever with you,” and a million other things - things he couldn’t put into words, or things he only knew how to say in Enochian, but he didn’t. He stayed quiet, mostly, following suit - Dean was not speaking, but he was vocal, so Castiel felt that it was appropriate to let the sounds accompanying his pleasure pass his lips. 

He let his hand trail away from the brand on Dean’s skin, though he didn’t veer very far from it, just running his hand up towards that smooth shoulder and the curve of Dean’s jaw, cupping it, running his thumb over Dean’s soft, reddened, full lower lip. He didn’t miss the way that Dean leaned into his touch, or that little smile that accompanied it before a moan broke through the otherwise tender moment. 

Dean brought a hand up to settle over the one that rested on his cheek, and kept on rocking, feeling his orgasm build. Castiel felt good inside of him - so freaking good - but he wanted more. He needed Cas above him, fucking him hard into the mattress. 

+

When Castiel had taken control, it was like a switch flipping.

It was sudden, and so oddly spontaneous for Cas to have done - considering his experience prior to this had been more or less nonexistent - but Dean loved it. He had been manhandled down onto the bed like he was nothing, kissed like he had hung the very stars that shone in the sky, and filled perfectly when Cas pushed back inside of him in that new position; his gasp and the angel’s groan mingled with the sound of their skin meeting again.

Castiel didn’t pull out of Dean to thrust in right away, just stayed buried in him for a moment; Dean assumed it was time to adjust, but Castiel was doing something he wasn’t used to doing - having sex, yes, but also, on a very minor level, panicking.

Castiel almost completely froze up, not sure what to do. He tried to think of what the pizza man did to the babysitter, but they even hadn’t gone as far as penetration - at least not before the film was turned off - and he knew that was what Dean wanted from him, based on the second half of the fantasy he had witnessed. He should have finished watching the adult film with the pizza man - then he would have known what to do. He was sure Dean would like it, no matter what he did, but Castiel hadn’t had much of a view of what was happening besides the act itself that had been so vivid in Dean’s mind.

He hadn’t thought this far before taking over, which was a little unusual for him. The angel would simply have to - ironically, he supposed - wing it.

He held on to Dean’s hip again, pulling out of him slowly and thrusting back into him a little quicker, and when Dean jolted beneath him with a moan, he knew he done it right. Pleased by this, he grinned just a bit, and when Dean reached up to grab Castiel’s face to pull him down and kiss him, he was caught off-guard.

“Cas,” Dean whispered as he broke away from it, “you’re doin’ great. Can’t believe you’re not comin’ yet - friggin’ angel stamina, right? I want you to screw me, so I’m gonna shut up, but - ah -I wanted to tell you that.”

Castiel appreciated the reassurance, and pressed a gentle kiss to the left corner of Dean’s lips before returning to his prior position, moving Dean’s leg just a smidgen to the right so that he had enough room between those spread limbs to move. Experimentally, he gave a few thrusts - some shallow, some a little deeper - and found that if he got deep enough into Dean, the man would tighten around him and gasp, and the tightness of him felt, to be put simply, amazing. 

Dean was writhing beneath him, seemingly enjoying being the receiving end just as much as Cas was enjoying filling him, but when Castiel looked down and stole a glance at Dean’s cock, he noticed how it throbbed and leaked up against Dean’s belly. He reached toward it tentatively, not sure if he should touch it to help Dean, or what he should do, but once he curled his fingers around it, Dean jerked up into his touch body betraying him as he yelped out, “Cas, no!”

Castiel stopped immediately. Had he hurt Dean? 

“I, uh,” Dean fumbled with his words, blushing and looking up at Castiel, gently pushing his hand away. As good as it had felt, he knew what he wanted, and if Cas touched him like that, he was going to lose it far before the angel did. He confessed, “I want to come on your cock, Cas. So, uh, no touching mine, at least for now, ‘kay?”

Castiel nodded, relived to know Dean was all right. “Would you still like me to continue, Dean?”

“Y - “ Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, Cas. You can still touch me, just not there. So, uh… Please.”

Cas nodded again, and Dean licked his lips in anticipation when the angel moved just a bit, giving a gentle thrust to get back into the feeling. He let his free hand roam Dean’s torso, feeling the muscle and smooth, toned skin under his fingers. Dean seemed to love being touched, arching up into it, whimpering when Cas brushed sensitive spots on his body. 

Castiel thought back to the the pizza man, who did something similar to the babysitter, toying with her nipples as he penetrated her, so maybe Dean would like that. It had felt so good when Dean used his mouth on Castiel’s, so the angel tried it, using his free hand to tweak and twist the perky little rose-colored buds. Dean whimpered, gasping softly when Cas tugged one of them.

Dean moaned, clutching Castiel’s arm, dragging his short nails down the smooth skin there.

“Was that good?” he asked softly, pausing the even thrusts to make sure it brought Dean pleasure. 

“Yes, Cas, it was - now shut up and fuck me!” Dean said, half-kidding but not fully sure about how he should react to the angel’s gentle questions.

Castiel obliged Dean, slowly resuming the rhythm of his hips, and in retaliation for the slight attitude Dean had given him, Castiel ducked his head down to nip at Dean’s nipple, pulling the bud with his teeth and sucking it gently to get him to cry out.

He moved his mouth away, and when Dean squirmed, wiggling his hips back against the angel’s, he realized that he had, again, stopped, and got back to it. Cas held Dean by his waist, and rocked his hips forward, pushing deep into him without warning, causing the man to keen from beneath him, clutching at Castiel’s arm. 

The angel hesitated, worried that he may have hurt Dean, but the aforementioned man reassured him with, “Jesus, Cas, don’t stop!”

He didn’t, and sure as hell didn’t plan on doing so any time soon.

+

Once he had worked himself into a good pace, thrusting into Dean just right, into that spot that made him squeeze his eyes shut tight and tilt his head back and make pleasant little sounds, Castiel found that he could relax once more. He kept the rhythm with Dean, and let himself enjoy how good it felt.

Dean was tight around him, and hot - very, very pleasantly warm - and he was so responsive. If Castiel slowed down, he would whine a little, pushing back against the angel to get him to go faster. If Cas went quicker, ramming into Dean and kissing him roughly, Dean would gasp and wail and cry out his name. He looked wonderful, Cas thought to himself, all submissive and disheveled, hair a mess and green eyes shining passionately as he reached up to grab the angel’s face. Dean let his hands rest there for a moment, staring up a Castiel’s blue eyes, dark with lust and filled with power, and with his fingers tangled into Cas’s tousled hair, he pulled him down for a kiss.

As they kissed and Cas fucked him, Dean let his hands trail over all of the skin that he could reach, touching the angel’s back - he couldn’t imagine those wings that he knew resided there, but he could bet that they were amazing, and probably somewhere around the size of the motel room, if he remembered them right from the night they met back in the barn with Bobby - and shoulders, his arms and his neck, ghosting his fingers over Cas’s jaw.

There wasn’t a drop of sweat on the angel’s skin, just a glow that highlighted every plane and curve of his body in the pale glimmer of the fading moonlight that shone through the motel’s thin drapes, but beneath him, Dean was slick with a sheen of it. His back arched every time Castiel pulled out to thrust in again, and each moan that followed was met with a grunt or groan from Cas. When he tightened around the angel’s dick on purpose, he relished the sound Cas made, just that rumbling, low little growl of his name that drove Dean wild. 

The strokes were getting less even, quickening as the angel felt his release coming, and Dean was just as close - heat pooled inside of him, and he was dancing nearer and nearer to his orgasm; his cock was twitching and leaking madly, and his ass felt wonderfully well-used every time Castiel would thrust hard into him.

Cas was gripping Dean tightly, one hand on his waist, the other holding fast on his mark, their physical bond upon Dean’s bicep. The sounds of the bed creaking and the soft whimpers and low groans and lascivious utterances of each other’s names filled the air, heating their atmosphere; it felt like it was only Castiel and Dean, just the two of them in this world, and in that moment, it was all they needed.

It didn’t matter that it was four o’clock in the morning. It didn’t matter that sweat was shining on Dean’s skin, or that he was panting incoherent words beneath his angel in the dingy motel room with hideous orange-and-lime-green walls and a stupid plastic cat clock, hours before the sun had even started to rise. All that mattered was that both the human and angel were close to their orgasms, bringing each other to the edge faster and faster; Dean fucked back against Castiel as he pounded into him, wrapping his legs around Cas’s waist to pull him as close as he could, and his breathing was ragged, chest heaving and a heavy blush dusting his freckled face as he threw his head back, keening out, “Castiel!” 

He tightened around the angel as he came, eyes squeezing shut and spilling his cum over his belly as he murmured Cas’s name like a prayer again, digging his nails into the angel’s skin and arching upward with a whimper as the last of his seed squirted from his cock.

The cry of his name - his full name, something Dean rarely said - sent Castiel reeling over the crest of his release. He kept his right hand clutched onto the brand, and with Dean’s legs still around his waist, he was able to bring up his left to cradle Dean’s face, grabbing him and locking their gazes as he gave a few final thrusts, murmuring, “Dean - Dean, look at me, please.”

Power thrummed through the room as Castiel came, filling the condom and feeling twice as hot inside of Dean’s ass. Strength emanated from the angel everywhere, but seemed to be channeled toward the place where his hand was upon his mark, the profound bond glowing blue just as his eyes did. It took everything in Dean not to look away; the light of his grace was blinding and electric, like a burning blue flame, or a bolt of lighting.

Though the words were low, just barely audible, Dean heard Cas speaking - almost muttering, or maybe just chanting softly, in Enochian - as the light began to dull.

+

When Castiel stopped, having come down from the high of his release and having finished the short ritualistic cantillation, he felt relaxed and oddly satisfied. He knew Dean was lying spent beneath him, and pulled out slowly, paying no mind to the full condom - he willed it away, and both Dean and himself clean. 

Dean noticed at once, chuckling softly and saying, “There goes that sexy shower, huh?”

Castiel didn’t understand that - yet - but he grinned a bit anyway, moving to settle himself on the bed next to Dean, who nudged his arm. Cas lifted it curiously, unsure of what Dean wanted, but when Dean shifted over to settle into that space, he found himself smiling again. Dean wanted to be held.

“So, uh, Cas, what was with the light show?” the man asked, leaning against Castiel with a lazy, contented little smirk. “Was I that good of a fuck?”

The angel raised an eyebrow at Dean. “I believe you were.”

“That wasn’t really why you were all lit up like a Christmas tree tough, was it?”

“No. It was my grace reacting to the consummation of the bond, Dean. It has been fully established, finalized, and your permission was necessary. This was your physical “yes,” which goes hand-in-hand with your verbal “yes.” Much like the consent you have to give for an angel to posses you, the bond links the angel’s grace to you - the human - upon your full consent.”

Dean just hummed in response. He was far too sated to blow that out of proportion, and frankly, it was done, so he would accept it, It wasn’t going to hurt anyone - hell, this was a good thing - so he let it be. 

Eventually, he broke the quiet between them to say, “Hey, uh, I meant to say thanks for the clean-up, Cas. It’s nice to go from sexed-up and sweaty to fresh-outta-the-shower-clean. That’d be freakin’ awesome on long hunts.” He shook his head gently, laughing to himself. “Awesome.”

Castiel shifted on the bed, naked body pressing up against Dean’s comfortably, and looked at Dean with a fondness in his eyes. That soft, sandy hair was tickling Cas’s skin, but he didn’t mind. He just watched Dean, feeling a a pleasant, warm thrum in his heart as the man he held relaxed in his arms. Dean’s soul was calm, and that was more than enough for Castiel. 

The angel pressed a soft kiss on the top of Dean’s head, and in turn, felt a light brush of lips on his collarbone. 

With tired eyes and a sleepy, lazy grin, Dean tilted his head up to look toward the blue-eyed beauty and whispered softly, “Cas, not to sound all cheesy, but… that was good. Real good. And your hair is cute messy. R’member when you first came here, in the barn?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel whispered back, petting Dean’s hair. He didn’t mention that Dean had tried to kill him, but then again, he had long since been forgiven.

“Mm. When we first met then, your hair was all over the place just like that. Sexy, messy hair.”

Dean sighed contentedly, burying his face into Cas’s chest like he was a pillow.

The angel didn’t tell Dean that they had met before that, or that he just didn’t remember the journey up from Hell. He only held him, letting the hushed stillness of the room surround them as Dean fell asleep in his arms.

\+ 

It was near noon when Dean first stirred in Castiel’s arms. 

The angel knew better than to speak, or push him to wake up any quicker - his hunter wasn’t exactly a morning person, to though it was a little late to call this morning. He considered getting out of the bed to make Dean some coffee, but he didn’t - he wouldn’t risk jolting Dean, and there wasn’t a coffeemaker in the motel room anyway.

Dean sat up slowly, bleary-eyed. For a moment, he didn’t understand why he was with a very naked Castiel in a motel bed, but then the late-night events that bled into the early-morning came flooding back.

He opened his mouth to speak, and heard the lock of the door click followed by the thwack of it swinging open. He yanked the blankets over himself and Castiel on instinct as the light flooded into the room. He felt his face redden when he saw his younger brother in the doorway, smiling, looking both amused and bemused.

Cas only nodded at Sam, greeting him with the usual, “Hello, Sam.”

Sam shook his head with a little laugh, saying, “Hi, Cas; Dean. Dean, Cas. Cas-Dean. Dean-Cas.”

Dean knew what Sam was doing with that, and brushed it of. He wanted to yelp, “Sammy, this isn’t what it looks like!” but it was, exactly what it looked like, and he wasn’t going to hurt Cas by acting like it was nothing at all.

So, to take the attention away from his situation, he asked lightheartedly, “Sam, did you get to screw a librarian? Where were you last night?”

“Out researching.”

“Overnight?”

“So I got a little distracted. At least I got some work done.”

The short silence that followed was awkward for Dean, but Sam didn’t seem all too fazed by the sight before him. He brought a hand up to run through his hair, saying, “Anyway, sorry to, uh, interrupt and run, but I’m going to go get some food. Just wanted to check in.”

Sam turned to the door, on his way out again, and popped his head back in. “You two might wanna get dressed while I’m gone. I’m glad you’re at least sort of covered up, but I’m not going to eat anything with you two naked.”

With that and a snicker, Sam shut the door. The slam of a car door, the purr of an engine, and wheels crunching over gravel as he drove away were the only sounds that followed.

Dean’s cheeks were still warm, and he reached up to cool them with his palms, but found that his fingers were curled up with Castiel’s. He left them there, but shifted to turn towards him. 

“Cas, I’m sorry about that.”

“It is not of import, Dean. Sam was already aware of the situation, anyway.”

“What? Like he knew that we had sex?” Dean asked, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. Did Cas call Sam and tell him about it while he was asleep? Were they like teenage girls, calling each other and giving play-by-plays of everything? 

“Dean, I told him about our bond. He had not been informed of our intercourse.”

“Seriously, Cas? Sam knew about the freakin’ bond?” Dean asked with a bitch-face to rival Sam’s.

“He asked, Dean.”

“Unbelievable,” Dean said softly. 

“You didn’t ask, so I felt no reason to rush to inform you about it.”

“Cas, I haven’t asked about my cholesterol level or, like, cancer, but I’d still have a right to know if someone else knew about it.”

“Dean, your c - “

“No, I don’t wanna know. I just meant that it’s something I should have known about before Sam. It’s like pregnancy! You don’t tell a pregnant lady’s sister that there’s a bun in the oven before tellin’ the chick that’s carrying the kid. But don’t worry about it. I know now. He knew. It all worked out, so y’know, it’s fine by me.”

+

Once Dean and Castiel separated and got dressed, Dean tied his boots and went straight for his phone, dialing for Sam. He picked up on the second ring.

“What’s up, Dean?”

“Sammy, don’t What’s up, Dean? me. You knew, man? Really?”

“The bond? I thought it was cool, but I figured Cas told you after telling me and I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.” 

Dean snorted. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

Sam hummed. 

“Hey, hey. You’d better get me some good coffee and a big-ass, greasy breakfast,” Dean said, adding “bitch” as an affectionate afterthought.

“I will, jerk. Later. Have fun with Cas. I’ll be back in twenty.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was also posted on my Tumblr (@queer-consultant), so if it seems familiar, that's why. I hope you liked it! This was fun to write - I started on July 1st, and finished last night (on the 19th). I'll return to AO3 soon with more content! 
> 
> Your kudos and comments are appreciated!


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